Assasination
by Forlornhero
Summary: Stan chose the darker path of life after a tragic car accident and has lost contact with all friends and relatives. After an unexpected twist he is sent on mission into the heart of the CIA to kill a treacherous individual known for causing trouble...
1. Assasination

Hello Readers, This is a fairly short fanfic about Stan when he is 27. It may get5 longer (depends on the response I get)

Things I stole: Bourne series phone.

Characters (not owned by me of course they are Comedy Central property.)

Hope you enjoy! --- DaAceOfGames

The morning wind was cold and swift; the season of winter was not Stan's favourite time. Especially since tonight was the 24th day of December. Christmas was a mammoth of a burden to Stan; his entire family had died in a freak car accident on his 16th Christmas. His friends had tried to help him but he had just lost it; lost in his own pit of despair; he just went of into the world. Ditching school, friends. South park all together was now just a vague blur of faces and feelings.

A tear ran down Stan's pale, bleak face. So many people, just ghosts of the past. They had all forgotten about the poor boy in the accident and got on with their lives. Becoming successful or failures, each had a life worth gold compared to Stan's miserable life.

A sudden sound forced Stan out of his thought.

"Ring Ring! Buzz Buzz!"

The mobile in his pocket rang and Stan hurriedly rammed his had in his pocket to retrieve it. He gracefully flipped the phone up and opened the text message it had received . It read:

_Targets are: Kyle Brofloski_

_ Wendy Testaburger_

_ Location: Park square, Jewish Hanukah Carnival._

_ Time: Now, on speech podium in 10 minutes_

Stan shuddered. Then he walked calmly to the door, picked up his black leather suitcase and walked out the door. Stan knew the town well and went to the Green Factory corperate offices.

"Welcome tp the Green Factory sir, do you have an appointment?"

A charming secretary asked and Stan walked through the revolving doors. Without a glance he flashed a fake government ID and started towards an elevator.

"Hey, wait a second? Your Stan Marsh aren't you?"

Stan froze it his tracks. How could that girl know him? This could compromise the entire show he was running. _Or would that be a good thing? _ He thought. He turned around and put a hasty smile on his lips. Once he took a look at the secretary he realises just how much of a fool he had been not to recognize her sooner. The frizzy blond hair, lipstick and too much makeup. It was Bebe Stevens for sure.

"No," Stan's voice was deep and raspy from too many cigarettes. "You must have me confused with somebody else." Bebe puzzled for a moment.

"Oh, ok then I'm sorry for wasting your time Agent Gadsby."

She turned back to her desk and Stan breathed a silent breath of relief. Once he was in the elevator he looked at his watch. Two minutes left before Kyle started his speech. Wendy would be there too for some reason. He would have to keep a look out for her. He remembered Wendy the most, her long black hair and pink beret. She was the pinnacle of beauty as he saw it. He was so sorry that he couldn't have stayed with her. Life was just too complicated and that town was filled with to many bad memories.

Stan reached the roof of the building and looked over the side. The square was bustling with activity even though it was early in the morning. Stan bent down and opened his case. The components of a sniper rifle were laid out in front of him. The very sight of the weapon made Stan feel guilty. The blood of the innocent and the guilty lied on that barrel. The trigger contaminated by the lives which were lost in the flick of a finger. The urge to throw the weapon over the edge of the building and himself with it was almost overwhelming. However Stan stayed strong. Once you get into this line of work you can never go.

The sniper rifle was set up just in time. Stan looked down the sights at the stage. Kyle walked onto the stage to a roar of applause from the spectators. Kyle settled at the microphone and started to read out his speech.

"Friends, family. You are all here to hear the word of our god. To sing praises to Judah for freeing us from tyranny all those years ago. We are Jewish people and we are not afraid of the ignorant pigs that wish to abolish or discriminate against us. The Government will take away the law they passed saying that Hanukah is not a national holiday…"

Stan had had enough of the speech. He had said what he was going to say. Like Martin Luther King had spoken about the civil rights movement, Kyle had spoken for his race of people. They would remember him for this, his words will be amplified throughout the entire Jewish world for this act. Stan slid his hand onto the cool trigger.

Stan noticed a movement on the stage and shifted his view to the right. Wendy. In a blue gown she walked up to Kyle and kissed him on the cheek. His finger froze as did his gaze on the sight before him.

"I have been converted by my _husband_ here. We are all Jewish and will not stand for this abuse of our religion. If Christmas is a national holiday then why not also have the days of Hanukah."

Stan barely heard her words. _With kyle. She is married… to… Kyle?_ Stan slapped himself in the face.

"Pull yourself together and hit two birds with one stone…"

Stan re-steadied his sights as Wendy moved in front of Kyle. This was what Stan was, a government assassin not meant to ask questions. A man meant to kill the target or die trying. The ghost in the crowd or bird in the sky, unsuspected, unseen, unheard. A C.I.A official had seen him in the street with a beer in his hand. Homeless and broke the man offered Stan a chance. Stan took it with eager eyes at the time and soon enough he had been trained to be the ultimate killer. A sleeper who would be normal until the phone rang…

"I'm sorry Kyle"

A Kyle and Wendy slumped to the ground… Dead. Gone. Another victim of extremists as the news would state tomorrow. Their eyes still open, looking for their killer…


	2. The Problem

Hello again readers! I have decided to make a bit more story because I got a very quick response. Enjoy!!

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Stan hurried to put the sniper rifle back into its briefcase. Heart racing, he hurried back into the elevator shoving the button for ground floor. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open. Stan smashed in a hasty bad spelt 'Terminated' then shoved it back into his pocket. The guilt had been replaced with adrenaline now. Training had been a mixture of drills and lessons in a classroom. All meant to teach the three main rules of his job.

" do what we tell you, without question, without hesitation, instantly. 2. You are a ghost, nobody knows you, and nobody knows you exist. 3. You do not stop until the target is destroyed, terminated."

The next years after that first lesson had been constant. The schedule usually consisted of Stan being beaten to a pulp to learn how to cope with pain; then being told about how he was just a slug compared to the people in the C.I.A. Stan, like every recruit, had tried to resist the brainwashing that he was being subjected too. However, like all recruits who tried, he failed to hold out for more than a week.

Soon he learnt to hide in plain sight, to become the ghost he was meant to be. The grades he got in firearms and coherent understanding of trickery grew and grew. By the end of year he had crashed, burned, and rebuilt himself to become the top in each subject. Then the torture stopped and he was sent around the country to assassinate and receive information. Each time the government had a use for Stan he was sent a text on a special phone. The phone was only used by the CIA to give images, text and even voice sometimes all at the same time at lightning speed. Whenever your phone had bad signal in a place where there are usually loads, it's probably the government sending an important text.

"Sir?" Stan was jolted, yet again from his flashback. The elevator had reached the ground floor.

"There is screaming outside sir, do… do you know anything about this?" Bebe was curiously looking outside the doors; fear was evident in her eyes.

"I'm sure it is nothing to worry about ma'am. If I was you I would just get back to your work."

"Oh, ok sir…" she walked back to her desk while still looking back at the door through over her shoulder.

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Stan got back to his apartment and hung his coat up. It had been a very distressing assassination. Stan was lying on his bed staring into nothingness. He had killed the two people which had mattered to him most as a child. His BFF and his long-time love. No matter what Stan did now he knew that he would never forget the moments before their death. The loving expression of determination the displayed to the crowd and the passionate smile they gave each other. The passionate smile he always gave Wendy all those years ago. Stan laughed a little when he remembered how he had always been sick on Wendy wherever they got a little too intimate. Almost crying Stan plugged in his headphones and tried to listen to some music. Nothing he liked, a government iPod was the worst iPod playlist you could ever have. Stan hated being a ghost. Not allowed to have a life. Not allowed to have a love nor a real identity of himself. Stan was the only thing he had left, a hollow name on the bark of a slowly decaying tree.

Stan was just drifting of the horrible sound of Hark the Herald angel sing by Bob Dylan (the worst song in history even for Bob Dylan Fans.) when his phone rang. Stan jolted out of bed and jumped to high he almost hit his head on the ceiling. His phone was ringing. Not the text ring but the default call ring. The government had never done this before, not in the previous 100 jobs he had completed. Stan's shaking hand slid down to his pocket and pulled out the phone. There was no number just some **** where the caller number should be. Stan slowly opened the phone and pressed the lime green call button.

"Hello?" His voice shuddered.

"Greetings, code alpha-red. I am afraid we have made a slight mistake…"

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CLIFF HANGER BIATCHZ! Add in a review what you think is going to happen. You never know I might get some inspiration. A few OCs for agents would also be quite handy.

OC form:

Name:

Appearance:

Boy/Girl:

Likes/Dislikes:

Unique feature:

Thanks! - DaAceOfGames


	3. Connections

Now I am happy. 7 reviews in 48 hours ZOMG. I will try and use all OCs in time… At the moment I am still on the build up for what I have in mind. Want a preview then imagine the current situation then look at the genres. I have hints all around the prev chaps as well. OCs may have influenced the story quite a bit as well. Happy hunting and reading! – DaAceOfGames

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"Excuse me." Said Stan shuddering. Had he just killed the two most important childhood friends for nothing!

"We have made a mistake with your last job."

"You, mean the targets?"

"No, the targets were assassinated on time for many reasons which you don't need to know."

"Yes, sir." The resentment and an icy cold anger were starting to dig themselves deep into Stan's voice.

"Perhaps it is better we talk about this in private. Meet me in the arched angel. Right now."

Stan ended the call and put it back into his pocket. The code arch angel meant the nearest CIA location. These were usually just office buildings which had been converted into CIA labs and operating facilities. The nearest one was Redfod insurance TLC. Stan threw on his coat and started to walk out the door but just as he was about to close it he remembered something. Stan knew something, well, not knew but he felt it in his gut; that, with the fact he had been trained to feel these things gave Stan a feeling that usually shouldn't be ignored. He stepped back into his flat and walked into his bedroom.

"Orange coat, Green hat, Blue hat, Fat ass." He said simply to no one. A wooden panel on the wall jutted out. Stan went over to the panel and carefully slid it out, being careful not to damage it. Attached to the panel was a simple wooden box. Stan took this box out of its attachments to the panel and laid it on his bed. Looking at the box with awe, Stan lifted the lid onto its rusting hinges. In the box was the most beautiful silver revolver you will ever see. The barrel down to the handle was engraved with swirls and patterns. Though there were many patterns there were not as many as to look a mess. Underneath the gun were 6 silver bullets. This gun was Stan's graduation gun. He had made it himself as part of his training to become a sleeper just one year ago. Stan took the gun and loaded it with the six silver bullets. He put the gun into his holster and hid it under his coat. Stan then hurried out of his flat to the building, it was afternoon now and the sun had finally come out on the square, which was now a crime scene. It was obvious what the police would find. Kyle and Wendy were Jewish leaders and some Nazi would have assassinated them. Stan wondered what that made the government. Were they gaining too much support to be counted as a threat to America? That made no sense but his job was to do not question.

_Keep telling yourself that buddy_

Stan had a feeling that he brain was probably right. He reached the Redfod building and walked into the main reception. He moved to the reception desk and leaned down to the receptionist.

"Greetings my good lady, I have come here to shelter from the rain that is coming in."

"Then go upstairs to the top floor. It's the first conference room on your left."

The conversation they had just had was to make sure it was the agent and not somebody trying to infiltrate the CIA. That specific one was the December code for all sleeper agents with their names beginning with S or T.

--------------

Stan walked into the conference room and sat down. In the conference room with him was a man with Curly Blond hair and bright blue eyes. His face a look of charm and knowledge. Like he always knew something you didn't, in Stan's case, this was the true story. The man was dressed in business suit with a red tie. He only looked 27.

"Hello Stan. I am Luke."

He outstretched his hand to shake Stan's. Stan returned the shake uneasily. There was something about this man which reminded him of the guy who was a mass T.P-er when they were kids on a trip to the county prison.

"I have asked you to see me in person because this has never happened before. We have overlooked which building was the best one and didn't tell you who was working there. Bebe Stevens."

Stan nodded.

"She approached me when I was getting to the roof and recognised me."

"We know. We intercepted a e-mail to here friend which says she thinks she knows who the killer was, you."

Stan dreaded what he was going to say now. The undeniable fact that the government wanted everything to be clean and smooth.

"We have decided that she is your next target."

Stan cringed. Another childhood friend would be lost. Fate has a sick sense of humour to make someone kill all his friends.

"Her address has been transferred to your cell phone. Good luck."

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Stan waited and waited in the shadows of the house. He had picked the back lock and was now waiting with a knife in hand. For Bebe. Stan didn't want to do this, to make another person he knew die, but he had no other choice. It was either kill Bebe or be hunted himself for the rest of his life. But was the second option really that bad? He may be hunted but with his skills he could make it to somewhere the government hasn't infected with sleepers yet. Like New-Zealand. On the other hand he would be hunted by other sleepers each with equal skills all the way to New-Zealand, plus he would still be alone. Stan was so deep in thought he almost didn't notice the front door open. Stan waited in the shadows peeking around a bookcase to see the target. Bebe had closed the door and now was unpacking food. Stan new this was his chance. He ran out of the shadows and jumped. Bebe turned around and just in the nick of time dived out of the way. Stan's knife struck the table.

"Please Stan! Don't kill me please." Bebe sobbed while crawling way from Stan.

Stan hesitated. This could be his chance to prove himself to the CIA, get promoted, be able to live life. Or it could be his chance to go away with Bebe to New-Zealand where they could be safe and happy, at least for a short while. The CIA would hunt after Bebe anyway even if he didn't kill her. Someone would. Stan made his decision

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I am bombarding you with cliff hangers =P Review, Rate and flame please.


	4. Decisions

In chapter one I said he was 16. No he is actually 24. Sorry for the confusion. SO! Which decision did Stan make? Friends or Job?

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The knife struck the floor with a sickening crunch. Bebe whimpered and began crawling away from Stan.

"Don't you fucking leave me!" Stan yelled, he made a grab for Bebe.

"They will kill you and me if we don't leave right now!"

"What the hell do you mean Stan? You just disappeared and now you're some sort of assassin!"

"Yes," said Stan, calmed now. "That is exactly what I am. I work for the CIA and assassinate people. My target was you!"

Bebe slumped against a wall. Her soul black as the mascara running down with her tears.

"What are we going to do…?"

"Come with me. I have a plan to get to New-Zealand where the CIA hasn't placed any assassins yet."

"Go with you! After you just tried to kill me!" Bebe's voice was back to screaming.

"Bebe! I, am, begging you. Come with me. You're the only friend I have left." Stan started to cry.

Bebe's brain was telling her to call the cops or run the hell outta there. Something in her gut though said "_He is telling the truth, your best chance of survival is with this man._"

"Ok Stan. I will go with you."

Stan's face lit up with excitement and he stood up off the floor.

"On one condition Stan, once we get to New-Zealand. You and me split. Ok?

"It's a deal." Bebe

* * *

Stan pulled up at a pothole on the side of the street. Bebe's car skidded on the ice but eventually came to a grinding stop. Stan instructed Bebe to wait until he called her to go where he went. Stan got out of the car and went over to the pothole. First, he checked that nobody was looking. Then he looked at the pothole and raised his hand, flat palmed, above his head. He struck the pothole with all his strength and it made a nise louder than he had anticipated. Checking once again that nobody had seen him, he pushed the pothole lightly and sank about half a metre down. Bebe joined him and the potholes slowly descended into a hole that CIA agents call: 'The Vault'. Once it reached the ground lights came on. Bebe gasped. The room was filled with knifes of all different shapes and sizes..

Perhaps this is the time to tell you what the Vaults are. Established in 1978, Vaults are the official weapons drop offs of the CIA. There are three different types of Vault: Type A, Type B and Type C. Type A consists of the best firearms the government has to offer. From peashooters to 30. Calibre machine guns. These vaults had every model and make up to the year 2008. A Type B vault, was filled with knifes. This is the type of vault which Bebe and Stan are in. Though these vaults also consist of light firearms they are mainly different types of knife. Many had been taken from other references. For example, the hidden blade out of the game 'Assassins Creed' was deemed to be a great idea and was mass produced and placed into vaults around the world. Throwing knifes were also added to the vaults as an inspiration from the game. Type C vaults are simply explosive. If a sleeper needs to level and entire building then they should go to a Type C. Anyway back to the story…

Stan quickly darted around the vault. He grabbed two hidden blades while telling Bebe what the throwing knife holster looked like. Stan stripped off to his boxes to put on all the knife holders and gun holsters. Bebe couldn't help her self but look at his well tones body. _ I guess he would need to be fit to be and assassin. He must be a great assassin…_ Bebe felt horrified at her self. She tried to remember what he had done just hour earlier and went back to picking out throwing knifes.

Twenty minutes had passed when they got back on the pothole and were transported back above ground. Stan's cell phone rang again. Startled, he ripped it out of his coat pocket and flipped it open.

"Tut,tut,tut Stan my boy. Seems you have forgotten the rules."

Stan went as pale as a ghost which had just seen the Ghostbusters. It was Luke.

"Where are you?"

"My, my Stan. Seems you go right to business. Ok then. I'll tell you what." Menace crept into his voice. "Kill her now and I let you go back to what you were before this entire incident. A clean sheet, a perfect killer."

Stan looked into Bebe's deep blue eyes. His conflicting emotions battling to influence his decision.

"No." said Stan quietly

"Very well."

A shot was fired and it went straight between Bebe's eyes. For a split second Stan just looked at her. Then he called out a monstrous wail.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Then Stan dashed. The snipers were situated on top of most buildings in the area. Luckily they were in a residential district of town. Stan ran into an alley and wall jumped his way up the wall. Bullet ripped across the air but all came short and missed. Stan places both feet on the wall and leapt onto the first sniper. He drove his hidden blade deep into his throat. The sniper made a gargling noise then became lifeless. Stan shot up and reached into his boot for his first throwing knife. This he threw with expert skill and hit another sniper in the hand. He fell back in pain off the roof. Stan bolted over the roof s being pursued by the snipers as he went. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out two pistols. These in hand he jumped from chimney to chimney and did a front flip, diving down into a skylight of an abandoned warehouse. Stan landed perfectly unharmed.

"Hey you, get down on the ground!"

Two security guards had shown up due to the crash and were now pointing guns at Stan. Stan reacted much too quickly for them to react and place two shots in them both. The adrenaline rush slowed, the anger stopped but Stan still kept running. He ran all the way to an abandoned house he had found when he was just sixteen. He locked the door and threw himself onto the moulding sofa. Stan cried and cried and cried. He had lost his last friend, killed two innocent people and worst of all he was powerless to do anything to Luke from destroying him. Or was he. Stan pulled out the reaper. The coolness of its touch. The beauty of the engraved swirls. It calmed him down enough to form a plot, a plan. He was going to have to put together a team.

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Enjoying so far? Two updates in a day w00t! Btw try reading this while listening to 'Take me Under' by Three Days Grace on loop. I think it amplifies the emotions extremely well.

Flames, reviews, OCs. I'll have them all! - DaAceOfGames


	5. Assasination mark 2

THREE MOTHERF***IN UPDATES IN ONE DAY=(D ==== Moustache smiley face. Italics are either Stan's dreams or thoughts.

* * *

Christmas dawn broke. The birds were chirping, the bells ringing, early morning elderly folk getting their early morning walk before all the youngsters came out to party at night. The most special holiday that Stan could remember. So many happy Christmases. Until after that fateful day.

"_Honey we are just going out to the store do you want to come?"_

"_Sure mum!"_

"_Ok then get in the car"_

_Minutes are going by. We are almost there, just this one corner…_

_*CRASH*_

"_OH MY GOD!"_

"_AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"_

_I remember waking up too sirens, my arm. My arm was bleeding real badly. I was wrestled out of the car, laid on a stretcher, then I saw three black bags… No, not them surely. No! NO!_

Stan woke up screaming. Sweat trickled down his forehead. Stan got up and looked at himself in the grimy, cracked bathroom mirror. He looked like shit. He washed him self with the water from the tap. It was so cool, refreshing. Once he had cleaned up he walked back to the sofa. After sitting on it staring into space he noticed the corner of something sticking out from underneath it. Curious, Stan leant down and picked up the mystery object. It was a leather diary. Protected by a simple, almost broke rubber band. Stan knew this to be his diary. He opened it and skipped along to the last entry. Just one day before the CIA found him. Stan decided it was time for this diary to be laid to rest. Stan picked up the pen which was also under the sofa and started to write his final entree.

_I am a messenger of death. To me death can be compared to diamonds. On people like pimps they're so many diamond that it becomes and ugly disgusting feature. But in small amounts. Death, like diamonds, can become beautiful, more beautiful that they become more an amazing spectacle of wonder and amazement. Death can be such a beautiful this unless it is messily done as well, just like a diamond. Farewell my sweet diary, and may this one day fall into the hands of another…_

Stan had just finished writing when he looked out the window. The glint of a sniper rifle shone back at him. The room practically exploded. The shot sent glass flying everywhere. Stan dived away from the line of fire and grabbed The Reaper off of the floor where he had dropped it to get a more comfortable sleep. Stan heard a voice curse and start to move closer. He stood up and went behind the corner of the house. He waited and listened intently for the sound of glass under foot and, soon enough he heard it. Stan sprang out and knocked his attacker too the ground. What surprised him the most was that the attacker then kicked him up and got into a very familiar stance. She (the attacker is female) sprang up and got into a standard L-stance with a knife hand guard. Stan laughed and mimicked the stance. Stan had done tae-kwon-do before and got to a black belt first dan before he quit. His attacker struck first with swift higher and lower side kicks. Stan parried the kicks with surprising difficulty and then retaliated with his own spinning high kick followed up with several jabs and a snap kick. The girl dodged the attacks and ran towards the wall where she did a two step up the wall and pushed of into a fast and lethal flying side kick. It would have been a killing move if Stan had not decided to play dirty and grabbed her leg and throw her against the wall. She landed on the sofa with blood spurting from her face. Stan grabbed The Reaper and walked up to the assassin.

"Who are you, and who do you work for." Said Stan using the sternest and most intimidating voice he could muster, this wasn't hard due to his scratchy voice. The girl was murmuring something over and over again.

"Speak up!"

The girl looked up at Stan and spat blood into his face.

"You killed my brother."

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No more updates today. I will try and get them out every couple of days if not every day. I would look at the story about 9pm GMT because that is the latest I will post updates. Btw to TickTock1029 if you do study tae-kwon-doe then you will be able to imagine the fight scene much better than others! =P - DaAceOfGames


	6. Kayley

Please review me. It really helps me make the best stories if you notice what I am doing wrong. I will try to make some longer chapters in the future

Enjoy! – DaAceOfGames

*I just made a reference to ChristCullen101's story: The Great Listener - That's a good story, my favourite. If you are reading then I hope you don't have any troubles with me using it!

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Stan kept his look on the attacker. Who had he killed this time…?

"Excuse me? Who the hell are you?"

Stan demanded to know who the hell the girl was. She had just tried to kill him for crying out loud! Her first shot had missed him by centimetres. This created the thought of how Stan had let himself get that close and in-secure. Also on the top list of things questions was how the hell had she found him. Stan turned this question over and over in his head. He thought he was the only person who knew about this place. More importantly, if she could find it, could the CIA do the same?

"Forgotten about all your friends already have you Stan?" she said with a tone of pure acid while smirking at him under her painful glare. The look could only be described as pure evil. The kind of evil when a heart had turned the deepest, darkest black.

"What is your name?!" Stan shouted. He was losing patience fast. A CIA operative could have heard the shots. Agents could be setting up now and if this girl was a threat then she would have to be eliminated, and quickly too.

"My name is Kayley," He recognized the name. But it still didn't ring any bells. She must have been someone at his school that is for sure, but she said she was his friend. "Remember me! Kyle's long lost sister! Remember when they found me in the park!*"

Stan clicked. She was Kyle's little sister who had been separated from the Brofloski family since she was three! So now she was an assassin looking for revenge. On one hand she was a really good assassin and Stan could use her for the team he was putting together. On the other hand, however, she wanted to kill him and bathe in his blood for killing Kyle. _But she doesn't know that I was on orders. That bastard luke was the one who actually gave the order._

"Tell you what Kayley, I think there is something you should hear… without interruptions."

Stan took Kayley and bound her hands and feet with some rough rope he found in the bath of the house. Then he took some duct tape and placed it neatly over her mouth. With Stan pointing a gun at her she had no choice but to accept it. He knew that she would kill him the moment she had the chance; as soon as his back was turned or he fell asleep. Stan hoped he could change her mind. Otherwise, she would have to be eliminated from the equation.

"Listen very closely to me Kayley. I won't say this again."

Stan took a deep breathe and began to speak. He told her about the entire of the CIA sleeper organisation, told him that the guy running it was called Luke and that he was the one who gave the order for the assassination of both Kyle and Wendy. That he was forming a team to start the process of his plan to kill Luke then take off to somewhere that the CIA couldn't reach. Finally he told her what she was up against. The army of sleepers planted all over the country. The scientific geniuses of the CIA which would create the best weapons and other technology, and most importantly the fact that they do it quickly and silently. So as not to attract too much attention from the government to make them bounties all over the world.

Once Stan had finished explaining the situation he gently ripped the duct tape off of Kayley's mouth.

"So," said Stan "What do you say?"

Kayley took a moment to think about this. All he had told her made perfect sense. But it was a big risk to go against her entire country for one man.

"Oh fuck it," said Kayley, smiling brightly. "I'm in."

"Good".

* * *

First order of business was to find an agent and make him tell them where they were holding a girl Stan wanted for the team. The girl's name was Sonia. Sonia was the best computer hacker he had ever heard about. Newspapers said that she hacked into NASA's entire system and implanted false information from scanners telling them that aliens were communicating. They took the bait and she sent them a recording of someone farting! Sadly, they traced it back to her computer even after she covered her tracks. NASA's top guys took three months to catch her though, which was pretty impressive in Stan's mind.

He made a visit to a class A vault and picked a silenced sniper, some silenced pistols, two walkie-talkies and a stun gun. Stan's plan for this was simple. Kayley would be situated on the roof of the nearest block of officers. Then she would try to find an agent of one of the surrounding buildings. Stan would then sneak up and stun him. If anything went wrong then Kayley would shoot the agent clean through the head. See, simple eh?

The walkie-talkie cracked into life as Stan leaped onto the roof of the first house in the estate.

"I see one."

"Where?"

"On the building just on the second row of houses from your location."

Kayley waited for a second before speaking again.

"He is armed with what looks like a G3 standard machine gun, not silenced which is surprising seen as we are in a public area."

"I see him, carry on with the plan. Plus don't miss like you did with me."

"Aww! I thought you liked it when I missed that time"

"Yes that time but not now!"

Kayley chuckled as she put the walkie-talkie away. She was going to have fun with this guy, just like she did all those years ago when they were sixteen. Well she was fourteen but to the point. She always did like Stan. Not in the lovey-dovey way but just as a fun friend. Kayley guessed her and Kyle had the same choice of friends, why did Stan have to be involved in that car crash. Why! It screwed both him and Kyle up so bad and when Stan ran away Kyle broke down even more. His grades slipped, he lost contact with people like me and Bebe. But he found salvation with Wendy, which was when they fell in love. It seemed that they were the only ones that fully understood each other. They went through so much because Stan just couldn't get over his loss! Kayley felt the animal of hatred charge through her with each moment of that that thought passed through her head. She re-steadied herself to point her sights at Stan. All she needed to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over. She would have had her vengeance over Stan. She could just go back to her normal life as a sales clerk. The story would end right then and there. Just one twitch of the finger.

Kayley's POV

It's my chance. I could end him; all of this could become a faded memory. But… what did he say to me when he caught me? I remember. That Luke guy gave him the order. God damn it. How could I even have considered killing Stan? He was just a tool of the government, a puppet on a string. I turned my sniper rifle back to the agent.

Get him good Stan!

* * *

A longer chapter for you there. Should I start writing more in POV's than 3rd person?


	7. Jail Break

Hello readers! Sorry for not updating in a while. I have had a lot of things to do in the past week or two. I will try to make this a longer one than usual.

~ DaAceOfGames

* * *

Stan crouched down low behind a vent on top of the roof. The enemy agent was just a few feet ahead of him now. The unfortunate man wouldn't know what hit him.

Gripping his knife tightly he swept out from behind the vent and charged at the agent. Stan jumped high onto the agents back and the both of them toppled to the floor. Stan acted quickly, throwing the mans gun away and holding the knife into his neck.

"Tell me the access codes for your CIA clearance and I will let you go." whispered Stan.

"Ok, the code for my bravo clearance is 234974637. Can I go now, please…" The man sobbed. "Please!"

Stan looked down on the man with sober eyes and with a jerk of his hand the man was dead.

Stan's POV

I hate it when I have to kill people like that.

I took the ID card and uniform from the man once I had dragged him into the vent. Better to get into where I am going unsuspected than just walk right in. What will Kayley think of the crime I just commited. In cold blood I just killed the man like it was nothing to me; she will understand. He would have just told the government anyway wouldn't he? Wouldn't he?

Damn it once this is over I am going straight to Hawaii for that holiday I promised myself all those years ago. But first I need to visit somebody.

* * *

3rd POV

Luke stumbled down the grey hallway, scratching at his shirt collar all the way. He reached the simple office room door at the end and quickly checked himself out. He pulled a hankie out of his pocket and wiped his brow of the sweat quickly forming on it due to the anticipation, fear and downright foreboding; building up in the pit of his stomach. Giving his fingers a quick flex, he shoved on a smile and opened the door.

"Ah, welcome Luke," said a gruff voice. "How is the plan playing out then my friend?"

"Well sir, targets Stevens, McCormick, Stotch, Tucker, Black, Testaburger," the man snorted as Luke read out that name "Brofloski, Pirrup, Valmer and Red."

"And the rest of the targets?" the gruff voiced man asked.

"Still in progress sir. One had decided to go into hiding."

"Any that one is?"

"Stan marsh sir."

"HAH!" The man laughed incredibly loud.

"Did that poor bastard kill his friend Kyle?"

Luke couldn't help smiling himself

"Yes sir, he also watched the Stevens bitch die!"

Both of the men were rolling on the floor laughing at Stan's epic failures at keeping friends. Once the laughter had finally died down the men continued talking.

"So, does your team have any idea where the Marsh boy is?"

"No sir, the entire team is on it right now, he is the biggest threat to our operation so far."

"Well find him fast and efficiently Luke."

Luke moved towards the door. "Yes. Mr Director…"

* * *

The New York prison never had any visitors from the CIA, nobody cared what the prison was doing as long as it kept by the regulations and kept the prisoners in. This was why Dorothy Perkins was really surprised when two CIA operatives came into the Prison that afternoon.

"Can I help you guys?" she said to the man and women at the desk.

"Yes ma'am in fact you can." Said the man of the two, flashing a CIA ID card. Dorothy looked closely at the card through her gold rimmed spectacles. The man was who he said he was.

"We would like to see the prisoner by the name of Sonia Crawford. She is being moved to a higher security jail. We will need all her confiscated items as well." Said the girl.

"Why is she being moved?"

"Let's just say some people want her out."

"Oh my!"

Dorothy gave the operatives the keys to the cells and went back to her normal routine of watching YouTube videos all day.

Once the CIA agents got into the cells they locked the cell door and threw of their coats and CIA uniforms. They were Kayley and Stan!

"Was she really that stupid?" Kayley giggled as she took of her jacket.

"They aren't paid minimum wage for nothing!" Stan said, joining in the laughter.

While Kayley was changing into her black leggings, Stan got a decent look at her panties. Stan blushed madly and swore to himself to look again. But in the mere seconds after he swore to himself he couldn't help himself but be tempted to look again. He had been so preoccupied with doing all this spy stuff that he hadn't taken the time to notice how beautiful she was until now. She had long smooth legs and an amazing face. Her long, silky, auburn curls really reminded him that she was Kyle's sister. He had killed her brother; something inside him told him she would never truly forgive him for that brutal act.

Once they had both changed they set of to the cell of Sonia.

"Who is this girl anyway?" asked Kayley

"She's a hacker I met a couple of years back. We were friends for a while and she helped me on an job."

"Were you _more_ than friends?" Kayley asked, giggling as Stan's face went bright red.

"None of your business thank-you." Stan eventually replied

They rounded a corner and got to cell 65B; Sonia's cell.

"Sonia, it's me Stan. Me and a friend have come to bust you outta here."

"About god damn time too you bastard!" Sonia's voice was high but yet surprisingly not annoying.

Stan opened the door and threw in a bag full of Sonias belongings.

"Get changed then come out. Be quick about it too!"

* * *

The New York prison never had any visitors from the CIA, nobody cared what the prison was doing as long as it kept by the regulations and kept the prisoners in. This was why Dorothy Perkins was really surprised when two _more_ CIA operatives came into the Prison that afternoon.

"Can I help you guys?" she said to the men at the desk. "Your friends have already gone in to move the prisoner."

Both men looked at each other then drew and cocked their weapons.

* * *

Sonia came out of the cell in black gloves, black pants, black high heels and a black and white striped poplin shirt. She had long black hair which came down to her shoulders. It was greasy but still she managed to pull of the look. Perched on top of her nose where a pair of black rimmed designer glasses. Kayley could see why Stan would take to her.

Stan beamed at her and they both embraced in a hug.

"It's good the see you Sonia." Said Stan

"I guess I owe you one, can we get out of here now, please?"

Stan was just about to agree when he his trained ears picked up the click of the lock just three corridors away from where they were standing.

"You guys get into that cell and don't come out unless I tell you to ok? Be ready to defend yourself"

Kayley was about to ask why but the look Stan gave her was a sign that she was to obey, or die.

Once both of the girls were safe inside the cell, Stan walked out to confront the attackers.

Stan rounded the corner and came face to face with the CIA agents.

"Get the fuck down! Hands above your head!" one of them shouted

Stan slowly put his hands above his head, his eyes closed, remembering all how Kyle and Wendy had fell to the ground, how the cheers of the crowd they were addressing had soon turned to screams. Bebe's head hitting the hard concrete. A bullet in the brain. Stan hated it when he had to do these things...

* * *

What is he gonna do what is he gonna do! Take your guesses in the review section please! Keep and open mind and remember that anything can happen in my stories!


	8. Anomaly

Let me just say I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I got pretty wrapped up in things like Rockband and Modern Warfare. Sorry =/

* * *

There are some things you don't know about Stan Marsh. Some things you don't want to know about Stan Marsh. For example, why he was really picked up by a CIA agent when he was just a bum on the streets. Do you want to know? You sure? Alright then. It all started when Stan was 16, he had already left his friends behind, this you know.

Another night on the cold dark street, the street lights were slowly turning from red to orange and Stan was in an alley behind the bar known as the Dead Horse. Stan was cold and hungry and although he didn't want to eat anything since the death of his family but he knew that he must to survive. Stan blew into his hands then opened the nearest bin and started fumbling around for a decent meal. Stan had no luck with the bins. Stan was so angry, his parents were dead, he had no food, he had turned his back on his friends and worst of all couldn't think about the redneck town without bursting into tears.

"WHY!!" Stan screamed at the heavens clenching his fists.

"WHY ME YOU BASTARD!"

The live music playing in the bar suddenly came to a halt and a wave of silence swept over the area. Stan, in his fit of rage, didn't notice this until a policeman who was in the bar at that time came out to him. Stan was on his knees, bawling at the memory which still plagued him of that dreadful car journey. All the pain, all the sob, all the people asking him that same fucking question "are you ok" "Are you alright me lad" "Get over it already it's been three months!" "ARE YOU OK MATE?" The emotions had built up inside him for so long. To long.

"Stop making a fucking disturbance and get the hell away from my bar!" yelled the policeman. The smell of alcohol lingered on his breath.

"Please sir… I'm sorry…" Stan started through tearful breaths.

The police man pulled out his baton and swung it with drunken force into Stan's stomach. Stan fell to the floor writhing in pain and clutching his stomach. This was the very last thing Stan was going to take. He sprung up and instinctively got into a fighting stance. The police man laughed and swung the baton again, this time aimed for his skull. Stan had lost control and out stretched his hand to the baton, ready to catch it. Stan felt an immense release of energy, of anger, of torment. It was like a huge stone had just been lifted from his shoulders. A searing light burst from Stan's outstretched hand and engulfed the policeman. The last thing the unfortunate policeman managed to say was a short gasp before he simply disintegrated and became part of the light. Stan could not believe what he had done. He had killed, no, obliterated a man with nothing but his hand and emotions. The light retreated into Stan's hand and he collapsed into a coma. Stan Marsh awoke from his coma one year later. He was then offered to be trained by a CIA operative. He seemed a friendly man and although he made no promises the training would be easy he promised that Stan would be looked after and taught how to utilise his gift for the good of America. Stan, knowing nothing of the man's intentions, accepted it with a grin plastered on his face. Gullible, gullible, Stan…

* * *

Stan summoned up the thoughts and memories still so vivid in his mind after all these many years. The screaming, the crunch of bones and his mother and farther hit the windshield and the sirens which broke through the darkness Stan was surrounded him. This was something he had learnt about when he was training with a physic in the early years of his training. The energy produced by his emotions could be so deep that he could use them to access the physic powers in every human mind.

Stan slowly raised his hands towards the CIA agents coming to cuff him, weapons drawn. Stan parted his hands in an abrupt motion and the two agents flew into the walls. They were helpless to the power of Stan's rampaging emotions. Stan strode towards them with menace in his eyes. He stretched his fingers then thrust them into one of the agents chests. The man screamed in agony as Stan ruthlessly dug inside his chest breaking the ribcage and clutching the fast pumping heart. Stan ripped the heart out of the man's chest. Blood spurted everywhere. The agent only remained conscious for a few more seconds to feel his own heart in his mouth before he finally died.

Witnessing this was a stunned Kayley. Stan was ripping people to shreds. Nobody could do that. Nobody would _want_ to do that. But Stan seemed to be enjoying himself. He was about to turn to the other CIA agent when Kayley pulled out a pistol. She couldn't witness this monster do his work any more. She took careful aim and fired two shots into his head before Stan could torment him in the way that he had done to the other. Stan turned to Kayley and shrieked in rage, having been denied his kill. Kayley took aim on Stan but, luckily for Stan. His emotional store was drained. The anger faded from his face and his eyes returned from red to their normal blue. Stan slumped to the floor in a faint. Kayley didn't know what to do. Sonia did however.

"You are stronger than me, pick him up. We have to get out of here."

"What! He just ripped those men to pieces; he is not man, but a monster!"

"It is not his fault, he has… err…" Sonia struggled to explain Stan's powers to Kayley. "Just trust me on this, you can keep him at gun point if you want. I'm going to plant these charges."

* * *

Hope you like this. I just wrote what my imagination told me too!

-DaAceOfGames


	9. Suspicions and Plans

Sorry to say this but I may have to tweek certain features about OCs to make them fit the story better. Just review with a no if you really don't want me to. However this may mean that you're Oc could not be used. Enjoy the chapter!

BTW- This chapter was influenced heavily by the supernatural series on living TV

* * *

Stan woke up. Drearily he opened his eyes and looked around. His vision was blurred and his head was pounding, it felt like he had drank ten bottles of shots the night before. Stan grinned, him and Kenny had almost done that once. Stan was about to wipe his eyes when he found that his hands were cuffed behind the chair he was sitting on.

"What the fuck?" whispered Stan.

"Oh, you're finally awake demon boy?"

Stan looked up to see Kayley walking towards him. She had changed into a black tank top and camouflage jogging bottoms. Stan almost got a boner right then and there. That is, until he saw the knife in her hand.

"What the hell are doing?"

Kayley calmly walked up to Stan and sat down on his lap facing him. Stan felt extremely awkward already without the risk of her noticing his affection to her. She grabbed his head delicately on either side and pulled it towards her face. Their eyes were gazing straight into each other. They say that you can tell the most from a person by looking into their eyes. Kayley silently held this position for many hours. Stan protested but she didn't falter in her stare. No once did she blink. Then, all of a sudden, she slapped him across the face. Stan head flew to the right; this jolted his brain into the side of his head and he was instantly knocked out.

"Ok, you were right. He isn't possessed." Kayley said to a camera in a corner of the room.

"Took you long enough." Sonia responded as she walked into the room. "I told you, it's something which he can bring on himself whenever he thinks of the incident which happened when he was 16."

"Do you really think that emotions can build up to that power?"

"I guess we have living proof."

Kayley stared at Stan. He looked so cute when he was sleeping. _Brush that though out of your head Kayley. He murdered your brother and his best friend._ Kayley sank. She couldn't hate him, but she didn't want to like him to much either. There were a few more tests to be done. Just to make sure.

She drew a bottle from her belt. It was filled with holy water. She splashed a bit on Stan; no effect. Sonia leaned against the wall and sighed, this girl was fucking mental. Kayley pulled out her knife from her shoe. Only one more thing to do. Kayley drew the blade across her hand. She ignore the horrible feeling as blood rushed out of her and started drawing on the wall. She made a series of intricate symbols and characters which Sonia had never seen before in her life. Finally she placed her bloodied hand on the wall, in the middle of the characters. No effect on Stan.

"You are fucking mental." said Sonia, as she walked towards Stan and dragged the chair out of the room. Leaving Kayley to bandage her self up.

* * *

Stan awoke again with a thudding head ache. This time it was in a bed. He walked out of the room he was in and found himself in a large villa courtyard. He recognized this place as one of Sonia's safe houses. He walked into her office and saw both her and Kayley speaking rapidly.

"Could anybody tell me what that was about?" Stan snapped, attracting the girls' attention.

"Kayley thought you were possessed." Sonia giggled.

"Well it kind of looked like it when Stan was ripping out peoples hearts!"

Then Stan remembered. He had used his power again. God damn it.

Stan sat down and buried his head in his hands. He looked up at the two girls expectantly waiting to hear his story.

"I guess I better start from the beginning…"

Once Stan had finished his story; Kayley accepted it to the last possible detail. Then they began to plan.

"We have too get into the CIA office here," Stan said, pointing his finger on a map. "That was where Luke was last so I assume he will at least have something there of importance."

"That is the one of the most secure CIA offices in this state Stan!" Sonia protested.

"I know but it is the only place we know Luke has been."

"We are going to need a bigger team than just us three to get into there."

"I know," said Kayley excitedly "we can look on the web!"

Sonia and Stan looked at eachother.

"Are you serious!" Sonia shouted!

Kayley took no notice and eagerly sat down at the computer and typed madly. _.com_. The screen flooded with popups so Kayley hit a few more buttons and was taken to a forum. She posted an simple forum article.

_We are three agents who are rebelling against the CIA for what they did to us. If you are interested in risking your life to destroy parts of the CIA then meet us in South Park, Colerado by the Mayors Office at 12:00pm noon. =)_

Stan looked at Kayley "Do you really think this will work?"

Kayley beamed up at him, "It's how I found you."


	10. Meetings and Inspiration

South Park, Colorado. As Stan drove their inconspicuous ford focus down the road everything came flooding back. The fun they had had on the mountains, sledging down and always falling over. The bus stop was still there and was exactly they same as it used to be. The car creped down the main road of down, showing all the shops as they had been all those many years ago when Stan as actually human. Finally they got to the mayors office. A new mayor had been elected since last he came, which was a good thing since the previous mayor was as corrupt as a twelve year old burger.

Stan, Sonia and Kayley steeped out of the car. Stan looked at the clock on top of the mayors office, they were ten minutes early. Kayley said she was going to see her parents and bolted. Stan just had time to shout at her not to tell them anything about Kyle before she was around the corner. Stan sat down on the steps and buried his head in his hands. Though he felt the tears welling up inside him for the fact of he was back in South Park he also found a hidden meaning. This was where he had spiralled down. This was where fate had kicked him down the stairs into the deepest pit of hell… and this was where he was going to make his comeback. Sonia sat down beside the large man. She simply put her arms around her friend's shoulder and gave him a hug. Sonia, his only true friend, even when he had been in the CIA she respected him.

Sonia had been a internet crime lord when the CIA finally caught her. Instead of killing her, Luke decided that she was more useful as an informant and master hacker for the sleeper assassins. Stan had worked with her on a number of different occasions. Let's see… he killed Gairc Rekcut a russian bank manager visiting the US. Nekot Kcalb who was his accomplice and business partner. Also, Navonod Edylc, he was the polish economist they were meeting. Stan then had a revelation. He jumped forward into the snow and used his hand to spell out the names of all those targets in the snow.

G-A-I-R-C R-E-K-C-U-T------N-E-K-O-T K-C-A-L-B------N-A-V-O-N-O-D E-D-Y-L-C-----

C-R-A-I-G T-U-C-K-E-R------T-O-K-E-N B-L-A-C-K------D-O-N-O-V-A-N C-L-Y-D-E-----

Stan POV

How could I have been so stupid?! I have been killing everybody who I came into contact with inside school. This raises so many questions! How many others have I slaughtered, why is Luke doing this to me? I will get the answer to all of these questions if just to redeem myself from killing all of these people, all of my friends!

"Sonia, these are the targets we killed together." I said, pointing to the letters in the snow vigorously.

"So?" questioned Sonia.

"They are all people I used to be friends with in school." I spluttered, holding back the streams of tears racing into my eyes. I had killed Kyle, Wendy, Craig, Clyde and Token. Who else could I possibly have killed?

A few minutes later I had got some paper and a pen from the local hardware store and was straining my brain to remember the names of all my other targets. Some were also people I had known but still there were some legitimate targets e.g. a gang boss in visiting from Mexico. I have killed everybody except for one person. One person known for causing trouble. It all makes sense now. Most of my former friends had grown up to move into other countries. Poland, Russia, England. Not only that; they had become top officials of those countries. I mean, token was the head of finance in Russian government. They had had to quickly hire an in experienced lad who had just got into major parliament. It was the execution which sent Russia soaring into depression. Like I said, it all makes sense. Hitler invaded the countries of Poland (Clyde), France (Pip), Russia (Token and Craig); and of cause the Jews were prosecuted in a manner of different ways. Cartman did it. He set it all up. He is going to follow in the steps of Adolf Hitler. This time he seems intent of doing it right. Weakening the countries he wanted to invade; typical calculated, cold, merciless Cartman.

Just then, as I was about to tell these exact details to Sonia, several trucks pulled up next to the office. Out of the Car stepped two girls and two guys. All were dressed in normal civilian clothes and I first dismissed them as normal people going to the Mayors office. That all changed as I saw that they all had holsters around their waists. The new comers walked towards us and one of the two guys put out his hand.

"Name's James Dunstan, come about the job you are offering." He had an English accent and looked friendly enough. I could see just from looking at him that he was pretty agile. He was dressed in an open hard rock café hoodie and blue jeans. Around his waist was a holster spouting twin guns. I noticed he also had holsters strapped to his chest which had concealed in their brown leather folds two knifes. I had a feeling this guy knew me. The expression on his face was covered partly by his black fridge which covered one of his eyes.

"Well you came to the right people mate." I said as I stretched my hand out and shook his.

The others with him also shook mine and Sonia' hands and explained who they were, where they came from etc etc… luckily Kayley showed up just in time to hear them tell their life stories.

* * *

There we go. A new chapter and 4 life stories in the next one to write. URGH I guess it has to be done to flow the story. Do you think I should use their back story's as spin offs once I finish the main storyline or should I just make this story as long as possible. Rave and Review ppplz you have no idea how much they help me.


	11. Speeches and Love

This should be a bit longer seen as I noticed that I haven't got much content in each chapter. I'm not dead just lazy and also tired of everything…

Stan's POV

Everyone here had a story to tell. A long self history no doubt littered with crimes and other acts they might not be so proud of. But that was a story to tell another time. There are more things to worry about now. I stepped a bit further onto the hill looking down at the faces of men and women under me. Faces hardened by the world they had known all of their lives; faces darkened by problems, yet still already leaning towards the bright open gateway to hope. No matter what happened to them these next few days; I know that it will finally be a release from the prison we were confined in.

"You all know why we are here." I said in the most strong voice I had every heard myself in. I was surprised my voice box could make sounds that good.

"We are here because we have been cheated," I continued, "We have been cheated of our lives.

"Cheated by the one government agency which everybody in the world can look up too."

"We have been cheated from a chance at love, a chance at friends."

I noticed many faces fall down to the ground as I said the last sentence. One face in particular fell, a young man named John Barlow. The pain in his heart was shown on his face as I once again let my voice break the silence that enveloped the group like a thick syrup.

"Let yourselves know that now we are all here with our own reasons for going up against the CIA we are all a team. We must act and think as one if we are going to destroy the evil which has ruined our lives and God only knows how many more."

I had to smirk a little at that. God, what more evidence is there for a non-caring or non-existent deity than his life?

"Now let's get to work" I said while stepping back down the snowbank back onto ground level with my new peers.

The house we had decided to take refuge in was one of the old stores the town had used in times of emergency to house food. Surprisingly as soon as I had left the town all the problems and frankly unbelievable things just ceased to happen. It was as if our group _was_ the cause of all the disasters that had happen in that 'quiet' mountain town.

We had already set up our base of operations with all the necessary thinks to make my plan go down. The house we were in was just the same as any other house except the entire place was coated wall to wall, ceiling to floor, with steel plates. I assumed this was because they used to store food in there and didn't want it to get dirty. That idea still didn't stop me thinking it was a bit cliché to have the government's enemy in a metal base.

The computers which Sonia would soon use to hack into the government security system and disable all ground sensors and cameras which would stop the infiltration team from getting the advantage of surprise; were sitting in the corner after being set up by the team. Me, Kayley, Freddy, Jem and Tori would enter through the front door and take out the unorganised resistance that they would come across. CIA bases aren't that manned for a full scale battle but they would still have some pretty able bodyguards and of typical security. John would we on the roof of a nearby building and spot any human sentries and either take them out or tell the ground team when to move. I was not going to have no innocent blood on my hands anymore; even if they were working for the wrong people they still had no hand in this. I would replace John's ammunition with sleeper darts only to be used in emergencies to avoid suspicion.

It took many hours of precise planning and discussion before we all agreed on the plan. Then each of us retired to individual rooms we had in the house. All preparing for the fight both mentally and physically.

I was on the balcony of the house staring up at the cloudless night sky. A shooting star flew past igniting the sky for a few seconds and it was at that time I reflected on my life. All this time I had been running, fighting a lost cause just because I didn't want to face the loss of my family. Those memories still haunt my dreams to this day. Yet still I feel prepared now, ready to face my past life with no doubts in my mind that it was destiny which brought him the tragedy.

I was still sitting on the balcony when I heard footsteps behind me. Lazily I turned my head towards the sound to be greeted with the warm sight of Kayley. I couldn't help myself but smile at he perfect appearance. Even with all the tension of this night she was still perfect as ever. _You shouldn't be thinking about her like that, she's Kyle's sister. The one you __**killed**__!_ My features fell and Kayley seemed to notice my sudden change in expression.

"It's okay you know." She said softly while moving to lean on the railing with me.

"How can it be okay!" I yelled back. "I killed my best friend; your brother! How can you forgive me after all I have put you and all the rest of my friends through?"

Kayley just looked at me with a gentle smile.

"Sometimes it's best to forgive and move on," she said "we can't just go on with our lives with anger and hate in our hearts. It will destroy us from the inside out of we keep it locked up."

"I think that's probably the best thing I have ever heard anyone say." I answer truthfully. She was so right it hurt. I had been so angry at the world for what had happened I threw away everything I had. The next thing I said just came naturally to me. Like it was my heart talking and not me.

"I have been waiting my whole life for someone like you." Then my lips met her's. I was worried at first when I felt her flinch in surprise. Had I done the wrong thing? Does she now hate me? Does she still hate me for Kyle even though she said what she just said? All worries subsided when she kissed back. Her lips battled with mine for dominace of the kiss. The moment seemed to last all eternity for the young adults that fate had ruthlessly made it's puppets. For the first time since they were teenagers both felt completely safe and complete. Their lips broke and both of them made a gasp for air.

"Whatever happens tomorrow Stan," Kayley spoke up, her emerald eyes boring into his electric blue ones. "I love you."

"I love you too" As if it had been planned, Stan's iPod came to life inside his stereo and started playing Stan's favourite song.

_What do you say?__  
__What do you think about miracles?__  
__Miracles are somethings you dream about__  
__We are looking for a new way out__  
__Slipping away,losing all sense of reality__  
__Sacrifice, love and democracy__  
__We burn it all down__  
__Cos all our lives__  
__We're waiting for something new__  
__Waiting for someone like you_

Stan and Kayley embraced as they lay down on the floor, huddled together, looking at the starry sky.__

_We are the people__  
__Who let this whole thing go__  
__Just like the people you know__  
__We are the reason__  
__We're blinded by the goal__  
__We are the people, you know___

_Burning away__  
__Light in the sky so you can bring us home__  
__Further, further down an open road__  
__We've torn it all down__  
__Why do we pray, why do we talk about angels?__  
__Flying with their golden wings__  
__We've burned it all down___

_Cos all our lives__  
__We're waiting for something new__  
__Waiting for someone like you___

_We are the people__  
__Who let this whole thing go__  
__Just like the people you know__  
__We are the reason__  
__We're blinded by the goal__  
__We are the people you know___

_Step it up again__  
__We can be silenced_

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you Kayley." I whispered

___We can be brave_

"For Kyle's sake."

___We can be broken_

"We will win."

___All can be saved__  
__It's the rest of our lives_

Finished! I'm sorry for the time it has taken me to update but I was waiting for the right inspiration. I can tell you that that song has given me the best soundtrack and it kind of sums up the entire fic. It is called 'We are the people' and is by a very underrated band named Feeder. All of their music is great and it really amplifys the emotion in this story so if you want to re read it then the song is on YouTube.

-Jammerjcd


	12. Memories and Me tormenting you

Hey guys. Thought I would try to get this chapter out quickly as to not keep you all waiting as much as I usually have. I'm gonna try to put a relating song into each story or put it at the bottom. I really want to spread around good music and not the crap that is in the charts now days. Oh well! Enjoy this extra long chappie!

Stan's POV

I woke up to the sound of a specifically loud song courtesy of my iPod. I hadn't even realized that I had left the thing on not to mention the fact that I actually managed to nod off knowing what is on my iPod. IT was then when I realized that a certain goddess of a girl was still cuddled up with me, her soft breath tickling my skin. I soon found myself staring at her face in awe. If I could have any one wish it would be to be able to live a normal life with Kayley. We would have probably met through Kyle anyway if she really was his sister. My doubts we obliterated by one more look at her face. She looked exactly like a girl version of Kyle.

It was at that point when I realized what I was going to do that day. That day was the one day where I could finally get back at the government for what they had inflicted on me. I shuddered at the memory. Not of my family's death, not of Bebe taking her last wavering breathe before dying in my arms. But of what the CIA did to me. What I had never told anybody before. It wasn't even an entry in my old diary which I had left in my old hide away. I guess now would be the time to enlighten you on this horror of my past; this omen which has haunted me, the curse that science has placed upon me. I'm closer to the brink now whoever is reading this story. Yes I know you're there. I know that you are probably thinking now 'what the f*** is going on in this story!' or 'Wow this is a really unexpected twist.' I don't know why he feels that this is such a pressing matter when this story of my unfortunate situations is reaching it's climax and ultimately, the end. I will explain how I know you're there later. But now you must take a trip into this memory pool.

Cue flashback please my good friend.

3rd Person POV

_The slick, black limousine turned a corner and Stan found himself pondering how where he was going. 'I don't care…' he thought. Anything was better for him than scrounging for left-overs in bins outside restaurants and bars. Stan could feel that their was something wrong. The two agents beside him gave of that sense of menace and evil. Still, he didn't care. He had lost everything that mattered; his friends, who he loved dearly; his family, who he wished so much to still be with him; and most importantly, his old self. His old self had been brave, strong, meant for great things. Stan didn't see anything of his former self in the mirrors in the public toilets. Only a new face. The face of a boy who has the world on his shoulders; the face of a man who wasn't a man by choice but by fate. _

_The limo drove for hours until finally they reached a small blockade. Stan assumed that they were some sort of government agency. If the fact that everybody wore suits with ear pieces wasn't a give away enough the rough, concrete building complex he had entered was so heavily guarded that it looked as if it could withstand a nuclear war without so much as a roof tile falling of. Stan was still looking through the windows of the car at his surroundings when the limousine stopped and its contents where ejected. Stan was gently pulled out of the limo onto he stony ground. He was greeted by a peculiar looking man. He looked about 45. His hair was thinning and covered his head in thin, wispy, grey tufts. He was clean shaven but that only added to the fact that you could see his wrinkles around his mouth and chin. He was dressed in a white lab coat and emanated a sense of superiority and knowledge. Stan had never been a very smart student but he was always good at reading people and seeing people's true motives. The man looked very happy to see Stan, almost too happy._

"_Welcome to Base 5 my young fellow. You have been brought to me here because you have a gift. A very special gift which me and my associates wish to nurture and improve. I am Doctor Frank but you can skip the doctor part if you wish." He said in a rough British accent. They were now in a spotlessly white room with steel a table in the centre. At that table Stan and 'Doctor Frank' were seated. It was all too obvious to Stan that he was hiding his true identity. Stan didn't understand how he knew this man was not to be trusted but the vide coming from the man screamed at Stan to run from him and hide. But Stan only just achnoledged this. Sadly, he was still recovering from his breakdown earlier at the bar. Sadness can make you blind._

"_Now you are probably wondering what this gift you possess actually is." He moved in closer to Stan's face. "It is a most special gift indeed. One which allows the most talented individuals to control the entire fabric of this universe!" Stan looked up at Frank at that. Control the fabric of the universe?_

"_Bullshit," Stan laughed, "Nobody has that kind of power. Heck," he said raising his hands towards the ceiling, "nobody should even possess that power, especially not me."_

"_Scepticism is always the first reaction of potential members of our little __**family**__…"_

_The next thing Stan knew he was in another dazzling white room. This one however was decorated with machines which Stan neither knew nor cared what their function was. The main machine was a connected to a capsule._

"_Now be a good lad and go into that capsule there. The procedure will not hurt and it should tell us just how powerful you are."_

"_I'm not going in there." Said Stan, the fear crept into his voice and he croaked out his appeal. _

"_I'm afraid my dear boy that you don't have any choice in this matter."_

_Right on cue two agents dressed in black suits stepped into the room. Stan knew that any resistance was futile and solemnly walked over to the capsule. Slipping inside the glass container, one of the suited agents shut the door and started tapping in codes on a keyboard. The entire room was soon filled with the whirr of cooling fans as the machines struggled to start up the metal monster he was connected too. All the lights went off except for the capsules and all eyes turned too Stan for the grand performance of modern technology. Stan could have sworn he saw two figures looking in through the window of the room. A man and a shorter, chubby teenager._

'_No,' Stan thought in disbelief. 'It can't be. It's simply impossible.'_

"_Cartman?" The whisper escaped his lips just before the air was crushed out of his lungs and electricity coursed through his entire body. His body, his mind, every fibre of his being. Was suddenly overwhelmed by immense pain. Unstoppable as it was every conscious though was shoved out of his brain and was instead filled with merciless pain. Stan didn't even manage too scream, though his lungs were straining to scream the lack of air in them made this impossible. Then as soon as it had begun; which still felt like an infinite amount of time. The pain stopped, though this time replaced with a strange feeling. Stan could see nothing but the purest white light. His sight was useless and this frustrated Stan, who had only just regained conscious thoughts once more. Though he couldn't see anything using his eyes. He somehow, instinct maybe, exerted his will and was viewing himself from a third person view situated just above the window. There he was, in the capsule like he had been before the pain. This time however his head was pointed towards the sky and his hands were stretched out at his sides. It made Stan's skin crawl to see himself so rigid, so abnormal. Stan's facial features, eyes, nose, ears and mouth were all flooded with the same clean white light. _

"_He is one of them alright." A new voice said. Stan exerted his will once more and got a good view of the figures he had seen through the window. One was an old man, about the age of the evil Doctor. The other one was the chubby boy that Stan wished he had never met. Still dressed in his red coat and yellow and blue beanie hat._

"_Did I do good uncle?"_

MUWHAHAHA!!! Now you're all confused, depressed _and_ left with a cliffhanger. Note to OddSoul: You bastard… Why does their always have to be a guesser. Couldn't you just think that maybe I would leave Cartman out of this predicament? Of cause not!!

Happy being tormented by my cliff hanger. REVIEW AND FLAME PLEASE!!!

A song to read this chapter too is hard to find. However maybe the song **Closer to the Edge – By 30 Seconds To Mars ** would be a good match. Oops 00:42 will post this then head to bed.

-Jammerjcd

1,625 words


	13. Kitting Up and Arrivals

Thanks for waiting patently for the next chapter. I have been blown of my feet with my most recent Danny Phantom fanfic so haven't really though to update this one. Thank you for all the reviews and such. Also, thank you for being so supportive of me during this story. This was my first good idea and I didn't really know how it would work out. But it is working wonderfully and I regret to inform you that maybe five more chapters will be coming your way before this story meets its close. Oh well, let's not think about the bad side of things and enjoy reading this fic. I sure am enjoying writing it.

P.S: Just listen to the song **Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead** on full volume. Epic…

Stan's POV

Cartman. The only person who had ever really messed with me and Kyle. The only person who didn't respect a thing in this world; except for maybe Hitler. I still haven't found out why he was there. All I remember after that is being able to use these powers whenever I want. Though the only use for them is something destructive. I hate that. I am finally a superhero yet all I can do is destroy and incite fear. I tore my eyes away from Kayley and looked at my hands. I exerted my will and a small ball of white light appeared in my palm. I could go no further than this otherwise it would disrupt the machines in the rooms below.

I let the light fade from my hand as I felt Kayley stir from her sleep. I leaned down and took her in a compassionate kiss. After a few seconds I released her and gazed into her mind numbing green eyes.

"Good morning to you too." she said. She got up from our temporary sleeping area and walked towards the stairs in the corner of the attic room. She gave me one last look before she disappeared into the rest of the building below. I sighed, today was the day. The day where we would rise up against those who had betrayed us. I still didn't know after all those years what Cartman was doing or what had become of him. To be honest I never really cared but just the fact that I didn't know annoyed me. Also he had had a part in me becoming what I am today. I haven't found a name for myself. I suppose I could be the 'chosen one' or 'the mutant' but I really didn't like the sound of any of those names. I'm just Stan.

I got up myself and put my jacket on. I also slipped on my holster after checking my initiation pistol was in working order. I was determined to not let this gun not be used in the fight upcoming. Luke was going to get it if it was the last thing I did. Guess vengeance is something which is still alive in my soul, my core feeling. I entered the lower floors of the building and saw many familiar faces; each face a mixture of emotions. Hate, fear, apprehension, joy and strangely enough, content. James Dunstan. The guy who I had first spoken to when we were in the town centre. He was waiting for me at the weapons pile we had created the day before. All sorts of firearms and explosives were in the pile, each with its respective ammunition strapped tightly to it via duct tape.

"Sleep well Stan?" he asked; a friendly aura about him.

"Yes I did thank you."

"You damned better had." He murmured at a barely audible volume.

"Sorry?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," I furrowed my brow in suspicion. He chuckled nervously. "Let's get you kitted up then eh?" It was obvious he was trying to change the topic but I decided to let is slide. After all, we had a huge fire fight ahead of us. One which should not be taken lightly. I nodded in agreement and me and James made our way towards the weapons. By the end of the brief selecting session, I felt as ready as I could be. I was the leader of the team so I had no speciality weapons. However I did have a special uniform. Made by Sonia herself especially for me, how should I put it, _special talents._ The standard uniform we were wearing consisted of anaconda assault vests (the toughest in the business) which came up to our necks for extra protection. Accompanying this were my personal favourite, the goliath assault trousers. These babies were two inches of Kevlar with another centimetre of chain link to stop knifes. These weren't good as the anaconda legs in protection but the extra mobility gave the user an edge. We all had the same goliath arm guards and then standard assault helmets with some slight modifications. For example, we now had HUDs showing our ammunition status and status of armour and teammates. Also communicators and cameras in the helmets to give Sonia the ability to guide us through the building. Weapons wise everybody had chosen their own. James, I noticed had a beefy looking Type 09 sub machine gun which looked as though it could carry several different types of ammunition. A force to be reckoned with I was sure.

Myself, I had only two mini-uzis in holsters along with my special pistol. However the main modification to my suit was that I had weird gloves on with an ominous white orb in the palms. When I asked Sonia I immediately understood its role. They were specifically designed to channel my power through the gloves without loosing the protection for my hands. As an added bonus, they gave them a quick power boost and a metre was on the side to measure how much I had left. I knew that if I lost my power reserves I could be knocked unconscious or even worse. I shuddered at the thought. Best not to think about what might happen. You must understand though it is a fate worse than death.

After about an hour everybody was kitted up and loaded into a white van we had hired for the occasion. Sonia was sitting at the computers and would act as a helper for us, giving us direction and informing us of guard reinforcements. I flexed my will slightly and felt the power well into my arms, barely managing to stay in the confines of my skin. I opened my eyes, I was ready. Guess it was time to give everybody a quick motivational speech. I stood up once the van was on the motorway and gripped onto the bar above me for support.

"Once again I thank you for coming on this trip. You are the people who are going to rid the CIA of the virus which has crippled the once iconic agency to petty crime. The ones who have destroyed our lives, our family's lives. Fight hard, fight well. Fight for everybody you love and ever will love. But most importantly fight for yourselves. It is time to stop running and face the monster which has attacked us and so many around us. And if it is truly our time to die; then so be it!" On the last word I raised my fist into the air. Everybody did so and cheered. I smiled to myself then took my seat next to Kayley. Unnoticed by the rest of the van was that our fingers were locked. Squeezing each others reassuringly. Telling ourselves as much as the other that everything would be ok. I don't think either of us believed it.

Kayley's POV

The van abruptly stopped as we reached our destination. The CIA headquarters in Colorado. The place where that reached son of a bitch Luke was located. A mixture of emotions flooded my brain. Anger, fear.

"Fire up your HUDs guys," he paused. "And ladies of course." I laughed, even at a time like this he could still make me laugh; I could see now how good he was a friend for Kyle. Kyle would have liked him dearly, wait, he _did _like him dearly. But that car crash… I had trouble when I found out what had happened to Kyle. I can't possibly begin to comprehend how it must have felt for him to lose his entire family. But this was what they were here for right? To get revenge on the CIA. I looked at Stan's handsome face for one last time before his helmet covered it up. I saw the wrinkles and creases which made him seem so much older than he really was. I saw the worries in his eyes which he tried so hard to conceal and forget. This wasn't just about revenge for him. It was a bought closure, about some thing much more than that even. It was as if this was the only thing that worried him at the moment. The only thing that mattered anymore. Then he looked back at me. I was lost in his perfect blue eyes for a moment or so. I saw the pain again, the anger. But I saw something else as well, just a speck of happiness, of compassion, and most of all content.

I smiled back at him then slid my own mask down to cover my face. Everything was going to be alright.

Sorry It's so short, I just wanted to give you guys a update.

1,446 words.

-Jammerjcd


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